


Dying Wish

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Confessions, First Kiss, M/M, discussion of non-permanent death, implied dream death, injured eames, job gone wrong, major injuries but in the dream world not the real world, talking about feelings under less than ideal circumstances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: If Eames was going to die in a dream, he generally preferred it to be as quick and painless as possible. This was neither of those things, but he supposed it wasn't that bad either
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 97





	Dying Wish

Eames leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. His hand was slick with blood from where he’d been shot. He was gripping the wound tightly, but he knew it wasn’t going to matter; he was bleeding out. It was slow enough that he wasn’t incapacitated just yet, but wounds like this didn’t stop bleeding unless they were properly treated and they didn’t have the supplies for that here. He probably had 10 minutes, maybe 15 tops.

“Okay, I’ve barricaded the door, so we should be good to just wait in here until…” Arthur’s voice cut off abruptly as he came up behind Eames. “Shit, you got hit.”

“I noticed that, thanks.” Arthur was beside him immediately, hands on his shoulders as he helped Eames sit down slowly. “Great way to end the job, right?”

“You’re bleeding pretty badly.” 

“Yeah, I’d give it maybe 10 minutes or so before I bleed out.” Eames leaned his head against the wall, sighing. “It’s a shame we lost our guns. I have a feeling you shooting me would be a lot quicker and less painful than bleeding to death will be.”

Arthur knelt beside him, taking his jacket off and pressing it against Eames' wound. “And we both know I’d enjoy shooting you.” 

“Yeah, you would,” Eames laughed. He immediately regretted it, wincing as pain shot through his side.

Arthur frowned. He looked surprisingly worried despite the fact they both knew this was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, being shot’s just a bit painful is all.” He grinned. “Who’d have thought, right?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and sat back against the wall next to him. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told a time or two. Usually by you, actually.” He glanced over as something large slammed into the door. Arthur had moved what little furniture was in the room in front of it, but Eames could hear the mark’s projections still trying to break it down. “You sure we’re good in here?”

“It won’t last long, but it should last long enough for us to make it to the drop. Even if it doesn’t, what’s the worst that’ll happen? They come in and shoot us?” Arthur shrugged. “Not even close to the worst thing that’s happened on a job.”

Eames hummed in agreement. “And at least on this one we wake up when we die. None of that dropping into Limbo bullshit.” 

Arthur laughed quietly. “I think Cobb’s getting annoyed with us clarifying that on every job now.”

“Feel like that’s on him for not telling us on the Fisher job, so he can deal with it.”

“I think we’re actually in agreement on something for once.”

Eames grinned again. “Good thing it’s just us here, then. I’d hate for you to accidentally ruin your reputation of disagreeing with me on everything solely out of principle.” 

Arthur laughed again. “It’s not on principle, you’re just usually wrong. There’s a difference.” He glanced over at Eames, expression more serious. “How’re you doing?”

Eames shrugged. “A little lightheaded and my side hurts like a bitch, but oh well.” He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but just got another stab of pain instead. He felt Arthur’s hand back on his arm as he winced. “Not like there’s much I can do about it.”

Arthur hesitated a moment before shifting. “Come here.” He put his arm around Eames’ shoulders and gently maneuvered him until he was laying down, head resting in Arthur’s lap. “This should…should be less uncomfortable. No reason for you to be in unnecessary pain.”

Eames looked up at him, surprised. The movement had been a bit uncomfortable, but now that he was actually laying down the pain had faded somewhat. He even felt slightly less lightheaded now that his head wasn't as elevated. “Oh, um, thanks.”

Arthur nodded, very deliberately not looking down at him. Eames could see him blushing slightly though even from his vantage point, not that he was exactly one to be talking; he was pretty sure his face was probably a similar shade of pink. It at least felt like it was. Even just a couple months ago Eames would’ve been completely shocked by this, this was _Arthur_ after all, but he couldn’t quite say that anymore. He was certainly surprised, but not shocked. Things had been…different between them lately. They still bickered and argued at almost every given opportunity, much to the chagrin of the rest of the team, but it had grown less antagonistic over the months. More friendly teasing than actual arguing, not that it annoyed the rest of the team any less. Arthur was surprisingly funny when he got going and Eames had found himself looking for excuses to talk to him more, spend time with him even outside of jobs. And, to his surprise, Arthur had seemed fine with it. Maybe even made up a few excuses of his own. 

It’d been like that for a couple of months now. Grabbing lunch because they were both at the workshop, walking back to their apartments together because they lived in the same area and were both heading that way anyways, getting a few drinks because it was late and neither one of them was tired. Eames was pretty sure they weren’t just friends anymore but they weren’t quite anything more yet either, and neither one of them seemed to want to be the one to broach that particular subject.

Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, still looking away. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I mean, aside from, um, from the obvious. As alright as I can be I guess.” 

Arthur nodded. His hand was resting on Eames' arm, thumb moving back and forth slowly. It was almost comforting, and Eames tried to focus on it rather than the pain. Outside the projections were still trying to break down the door, but it hadn't given in yet. "How much longer?"

Arthur glanced at his watch. "About 10 minutes."

"I'll be interested to see if I make it." 

"Yeah."

Eames frowned, surprised by the tightness in Arthur's voice. He still wasn't looking down, but Eames could see the concern in his expression. "Don't look so worried. I'll be fine, it's not like I'm actually dying."

"I know, I just…" Arthur sighed. "That doesn't make it easier." His grip tightened slightly on Eames' arm. "It still feels real."

Eames paused. It wasn't like Arthur to be this open and he wasn't sure how to respond. He was fairly certain he'd be blushing if it weren't for the fact that he was bleeding out. After a moment smiled as best he could manage, glancing away. "Careful, it almost sounds like you care about me." Deflecting with humor wasn’t his most charming trait, but it was nonetheless something he was very good at. 

"I do." Arthur's voice was quiet and Eames blinked, staring back up at him in surprise. "I care about you quite a bit, actually."

Eames stared at him a moment longer before smiling again, more genuinely this time. He felt a little lightheaded, but it may have just been the blood loss. “That makes two of us then.” He brought one of his hands up slowly until it was covering Arthur’s. He knew he should probably be more focused on holding the jacket in place, but it honestly wasn’t doing much to slow the bleeding anyways. “Suppose we’ve been tiptoeing around that for a little while now.”

Arthur gripped his hand back. “Yeah, we have, haven’t we? I guess it just took you getting shot for me to say something.”

“Let’s try not to make that a habit, yeah?” Eames grimaced slightly; even just talking was starting to hurt. “I don’t want to have to get shot every time I want to hold your hand.”

“I’d prefer that not happen either.” Arthur ran his other hand gently through Eames’ hair. They sat like that quietly for several minutes, the only sounds in the small room coming from the projections outside. The pain was getting worse and Eames was starting to feel cold, but the feeling of Arthur’s fingers in his hair and the gentle pressure of his hand in Eames’ gave him something to focus on. It was a pleasant feeling, despite everything. If he had to die slowly on a job, this was far from the worst way for it to happen. “How’re you doing?”

“Not great.” Speaking was more difficult now, and Eames knew he’d probably lose consciousness soon. “How much longer?”

“Just under 5 minutes.”

“Don’t think I’ll make that.”

“I figured as much.”

“Sorry about that.” Eames tried to smile again, but it felt more like a grimace. Arthur looked down at him; Eames could still see the concern in his eyes but his expression was softer than it had been before. Less tense. It was nice, being looked at like that. Eames could get used to it. He brought his hand up to Arthur’s face, fingers leaving a trail of blood across his cheek. “Can I ask for a dying wish?”

“I don’t think it counts as a dying wish if you just wake up after,” Arthur laughed quietly. “But yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Arthur looked surprised for a moment before smiling. “Only if you promise to kiss me again when you’re not dying.”

The warmth in Eames’ chest felt odd against how cold the rest of his body felt. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

Arthur leaned down, kissing him gently. The soft contact broke through the pain easily and Eames leaned into it as best he could. Even with his vision darkening at edges he could see Arthur blushing when he pulled away. “I’m definitely going to hold you to it.”

“Hm.” Eames closed his eyes, savouring the unspoken promises in Arthur’s words. Arthur was holding his hand again and Eames felt fairly certain that was going to be the last thing he remembered before he woke up. Not a bad way to end a job indeed. “You better.”


End file.
